


A Sky Filled

by MoonJunhui



Series: And So We Dream [3]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Companion Piece, Fluff, M/M, and a large amount of cheese, are my guilty pleasure, literally nothing bad happens, more stars, of course, seoksoon, so i can't tag angst and i'm not used to that, sort of character study, there is a small amount of swearing, they are both too precious for this world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-30 11:16:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12107541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonJunhui/pseuds/MoonJunhui
Summary: A short Soonseok companion piece to 'Until the Sky Breaks'.When Soonyoung's nervous and Seokmin's remarkable.





	A Sky Filled

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry It's been so long for another companion piece, I got caught up in my other fun project, but thought I'd write something happy for a bit! The only warning that I can apply to this is that it's very cheesy.
> 
> I'd recommend reading 'Until the Sky Breaks', but if you'd rather not, Seokmin's a singer at Jihoon's bar, and Soonyoung's been going in for months to watch him. Enjoy!

It’s just bubble tea.

 

You chose a tea base, add something fruity, top it with those chewy things—there’s a name for them, but Soonyoung doesn’t have time for memory right now—done. It’s easy. Then you sit, and talk, and drink. It’s just bubble tea.

 

“I’m going to spill it.” Soonyoung struggles with his cufflink, fingers trembling. The cufflink, shaped like a panda, has always been hard to fit through the hole on his sleeve. But it’s shaped like a panda, so he thought it was worth it. Now he’s going to be late, and is any cute cufflink worth being late? No? Maybe?

 

“You’re not going to spill it.” Jun has _that_ smirk on his face—the one that says, _you probably will spill it but you’re adorable_. Soonyoung doesn’t want to be adorable, he wants to be desirable. Without even glancing down, Jun grabs at Soonyoung’s sleeve and fixes the panda. “You look like you’re going to a wedding.”

 

Soonyoung tears his arm away. “It’s just tea.”

 

“ _Just_ tea? _Just_ tea. This is the crowning moment of your life. You said so yourself!” Jun’s got an annoying gleam in his eyes, a musical lilt to his voice. Sure, he may find this whole situation funny, but it’s _very_ serious. Like, a meeting of the United Nations serious. If anything goes wrong, the world is over, that kind of serious.

 

But it’s just bubble tea.

 

“Just because you’re all smitten with Billy Joel doesn’t mean you have to be so happy.” Soonyoung grumbles, digging two fingers into his collar so that he can breathe. It’s hot. Really hot. Is anyone else hot? “Stop being in love and _help me_.”

 

Jun just raises his eyebrow—his perfect eyebrow. Soonyoung’s eyebrows are bushy and a little bit wonky and very not perfect. Should he do something about that? Does he have time?

 

“You’re right, it’s not _just_ tea.” Soonyoung eyes himself in the mirror. His shirt is slightly crumpled—it’s not his fault Josh broke the iron—and his socks are odd, but that’s good luck, right? “It’s _bubble_ tea. I’m dressing up all fancy to drink the milk of…of angels.”

 

“Right. That sounds kinky.”

 

“Oh, shut up.”

 

“Seokmin might be into it.”

 

“ _Jun._ ”

 

“Does _he_ think it’s just tea?”

 

“I don’t know!” Soonyoung swirls and jabs a finger into his friend’s chest. “That’s the _problem._ ”

 

Jun holds up his hands, and for a moment, Soonyoung thinks he might leave. He doesn’t _want_ him to leave, he wants him to talk so that Soonyoung doesn’t have to think about how he looks, and what to say, and that this is not _just_ tea. But then Jun grins and reaches to dust off Soonyoung’s shoulders. He straightens his collar and shifts a strand of hair slightly to the right before holding him at arm’s length, satisfied. “You look great. For just tea.”

 

Ok, nope, he can’t do it, his heart just fell out of his chest. Where’d it go? He’s going to need that _right_ now, for god’s sake—It’s not just tea, it’s _not_. Soonyoung grips Jun’s arm tightly, fingers digging into the material of his shirt. “What do I say? What flavour do I order? Do I offer to pay?” His voice drops to a whisper. “Jun, someone’s replaced my heart with the timer of a bomb. What is wrong with me?”

 

“Oh my god.” Jun laughs, a lovely, carefree cascade that doesn’t help at all. “Breathe. You say whatever you want to say, you pay if you want to pay. Ask Seokmin to cut the wires of your bomb-heart and order whatever flavour makes your breath smell good.”

 

Soonyoung blinks, slowly, releasing his grip on Jun’s arm. “Dude.”

 

“I know. I’m a miracle.” Jun smiles and pats him on the shoulder. “You’re going to be late, you idiot. Do you want this or not?”

 

Yes, Soonyoung wants this. He’s wanted this since he first stepped into _Seventeen,_ since Seokmin first opened his mouth. Nobody really calls a man’s voice beautiful, but his was. His was hauntingly perfect _._ If love at first sight is a thing, then so is love at first sound, and Soonyoung slipped instantly into a world of auditory infatuation.

 

But how can Soonyoung call this love when Seokmin doesn’t even think they’re going on a date? To Seokmin, Soonyoung’s the funny, awkward guy that goes to the bar every week and orders an apple juice. Right? _Right?_

 

The _Seventeen_ was supposed to be Soonyoung’s story. That’s what he said. But somewhere along the way Jun became a muse and Minghao started painting walls and Joshua—well, Soonyoung doesn’t know what’s up with Joshua, but he’s probably in love, everyone else seems to be.

 

All the while Soonyoung watched, Seokmin sang, they hung out as friends, but never alone—until tonight.

 

So, no, maybe it’s not just bubble tea.

 

-

 

What does a flavour say about a person?

 

“I’d like the…err…” Does Vanilla make him boring and predictable? Is strawberry too flirtatious? His breath will smell good if he chooses the mint, but he doesn’t really _like_ mint, is it worth the sacrifice? Seokmin chose green tea and apricot, which is a good, solid choice. Colourful and fresh. Like Seokmin’s smile. Even just the thought of it makes Soonyoung want to dance, and his feet start to _tap_ —but oh no, the cashier is staring, and he still doesn’t know what to order, and Seokmin’s _waiting_ —

 

“Chai something new.”

 

Soonyoung turns, slowly, the knot in his chest unraveling. Seokmin looks like—well, like he was going to come out for bubble tea. He’s got thick framed glasses, a sky-blue jacket, and a shirt that _could_ be tie-dyed. His matching scarf has little orange tassels on the end and a pattern of dogs holding umbrellas. “Did you just…”

 

“No.” Seokmin sips at his drink, corner of his lips lifting around the straw. “That was the wind making a suggestion.”

 

Oh. So that’s how it is. Soonyoung narrows his eyes. Game on. “Don’t try to _blend_ in, I know it was you.”

 

“Hmm…” Seokmin twirls the straw in his cup. “That one was a bit…weak.”

 

“Oh, don’t be such a teas.”

 

“I’m not. This isn’t fifty shades of earl grey.”

 

“Of course not. I wouldn’t…steep with someone on a first date.”

 

Date. Oh no, he said date, just act natural, nothing happened—

 

Seokmin throws him an over exaggerated wink. “I’ll have to make you an offer you can’t infuse.”

 

Soonyoung’s glad he doesn’t have a drink because he’s pretty sure half of it would have come out his nose. The cashier sighs loudly, but Soonyoung couldn’t care less, because Seokmin is smiling and Soonyoung wants to _dance,_ and god, he loves _puns—_

 

“Sir, not to rush you or anything, but we close in half an hour.”

 

Okay, maybe he should care a little more. Wait, half an hour? It’s seven thirty, it’s bubble tea, he’s dressed nicely, and the shop closes in half an _hour?_ Shit. Soonyoung throws an awkward chuckle towards his friend—date? Date-friend?

 

This was totally part of the plan, and he’ll make Seokmin believe that. “Right, of course, um…”

 

Soonyoung settles on honey-dew with those little flavoured balls—which, in retrospect was a bad idea, because he has to sip very slowly in case he chokes on one.

 

Seokmin doesn’t notice his struggle, but taps his plastic container against Soonyoung’s and grins. “Here’s to a brew-tea-ful friendship.”

 

Soonyoung laughs, tugging on his collar. Friendship? Ok. Yeah. He can do friendship. They’ve been doing friendship for like, four months, so he can totally keep going with that. Why is it hot in here too? Why does the skin of his chest feel like it’s going to rip? “Hey…so I thought. We could go for a walk? Y’know, since this shop is closing…maybe around the waterfront? Or —”

 

“Yeah!” Soonyoung shouldn’t really worry about making a bad suggestion, because any suggestion to Seokmin is a good one. “They have a light festival on, I really wanted to go but it was packed the other day. Even though I live here, I feel like I never _go_ to anything, y’know? I really should get out more.”

 

Seokmin likes to babble, and sometimes, Soonyoung’s pretty sure it’s that voice he’s infatuated with too, not just the singing. Seokmin could make an unfolded pile of laundry sound interesting if he tried. He’s a storyteller, weaving tales with a spirit that’s all too infectious. To Soonyoung, walking and talking would be _perfect._ Yeah, in fact, it would be better than a sit-down bubble tea date—

 

But it’s windy on the waterfront.

 

Seokmin has to raise his voice and the plastic top of his cup flies away into the night. “No! No, oh no. Does it count as littering if the wind steals it?”

 

Soonyoung wraps his arms around himself tightly, wind buffeting his thin shirt. “You what? Glitter?”

 

“No!” Seokmin laughs and, for a moment, Soonyoung wishes he _was_ the wind, able to catch that laugh and carry it away. “I’m just ruining the planet, no big deal. You know, I accidentally signed up for Green Peace once and they keep sending me emails about turtles that—whoa!”

 

Just like that, the wind snatches his scarf too, and both of them watch as it weaves a pattern in the sky. Now Soonyoung doesn’t want to _be_ the wind, he wants to _fight_ it. “I’ll get it!”

 

With the cry of a Trojan hero bounding off to war, Soonyoung dives after the scarf. An invisible hand tears it from his grasp every time he gets close, and soon he’s running with flailing arms after something that is already on its way into the choppy water.

 

There’s at least three quarters of his brain that tells him to jump in after it.

 

Sensing this, Seokmin grabs his arm. “Man overboard!” He salutes at the ocean, drawing Soonyoung close. “You served me well, scarf. Have a good life!”

 

“I’m sorry.” Soonyoung tries to hide the fact he’s gasping for air—Trojan warriors do not get _puffed_. He’s no longer cold, though, not as Seokmin shelters him. “Please tell me your Grandma didn’t knit you that.”

 

“Nope, she knitted my socks and those are safely on my feet.” To emphasise this, Seokmin jumps on the spot, letting go of Soonyoung. The warmth leaves with his hands. “Look on the bright side, somewhere out there, a dolphin will be able to show its new accessory off to its friends.”

 

“That is…definitely what happens.”

 

“It is. I’m a certified member of Green Peace.”

 

The shop was closing, the waterfront is windy, Seokmin’s scarf is gone, but it’s fine. They’re going to the light festival, anyway, what could go wrong with that?

 

“Quick, I think it’s almost finished!” Seokmin grabs his hand—his hand, his sweaty, honey-dew sticky hand—and pulls, like the wind on a scarf. Soonyoung runs with him towards a crowd of people, all with their faces turned to the sky.

 

From what Soonyoung’s read about this light festival, there’s meant to be a full-blown holographic show projected onto the water. They get there just in time to see a rush of digital stars falling from the sky.

 

They’re fake, and the water is wild, but shooting stars have never looked this bright, and they’re only that way because Soonyoung’s standing next to a man who appreciates them like Seokmin does.

 

To Soonyoung, they are a wish, a fleeting beauty, one moment seen and the next forgotten. Judging by the way Seokmin’s staring at the sky, to him, they are life, an endless fascination, each one a miracle to be imprinted on his memory core.

 

Soonyoung gets bored easily. He fidgets, _‘oohing’_ and ‘ _ahing’_ in all the right places. He’s more interested in the reflection of wonder in Seokmin’s eyes than he is in the actual show. That makes Soonyoung focus again, for a brief while, to appreciate the spectacle through an adoring gaze.

 

Eventually, the show grows slower. There’s no longer a stream of wishes falling through the sky, just one or two dotted here and there. Soonyoung’s not sure how long it’s been, but his neck is starting to ache, and dots of light appear every time he blinks. People are starting to leave, and that’s when he realises this part was a type of visual epilogue rather than the actual show.

 

Nothing could go right, could it?

 

More and more people disperse, and soon it’s just Seokmin, Soonyoung, and a sky full of real stars.

 

“Sorry we didn’t see the whole thing—”

 

“When I was little, I used to think oceans could talk.”

 

Soonyoung pauses mid-blink. Lowering his head, he turns his gaze away from the sky and looks towards Seokmin. Soonyoung can’t tell what he’s thinking. Probably pondering galaxies, light speed, eternity. “Well. If they could, they’d probably tell people to stop polluting them. And thank us for that scarf.”

 

Seokmin claps his hands together in far-off delight. “Imagine that.”

 

“I used to think water was just the top layer, and there was nothing underneath. Imagination is fun.” Soonyoung lets their shoulders touch. “What do you think they’d say?”

 

 “I thought, this is going to sound dumb…” Seokmin looks up towards the sky, the _real_ sky, and a glow of appreciation spreads through Soonyoung. “That they would talk to the stars. Because they might be lonely up there. And the ocean reflects them, so they’d be like…friends.”

 

 _Are you the ocean, then?_ Soonyoung almost blurts out. _Because I see galaxies in all your stories too—_ But no, damn, it’s the first not-date? Who says that on the first date? Get a hold of yourself, Soonyoung.

 

“Isn’t that sad?" He says instead. "To be friends with your reflection?”

 

Seokmin looks at him and smiles. “No. It's nice having anyone to talk to, don't you think?.”

 

 

 

 

“Is that a panda cufflink?” Seokmin says as they wander back beneath the street lamps. It’s too cold to admire the view, too late to find somewhere new, and Soonyoung feels like a complete entertainment failure. But Seokmin stops stop to admire the tiny accessory, stroking it with his thumb. Is this entertainment enough?

 

“I love pandas so much. Did you know sixty percent of dude Panda’s don’t have any sex drive. That’s why breeding them is so hard.”

 

If somebody captured the colour of sunsets in a bottle and compared it to Seokmin’s soul, Soonyoung’s pretty sure they’d look the same. Warm, saturated, bold—bursts of oranges and yellows, all surrounded with cotton-candy clouds. Yeah, he’s a bit like heaven, and it doesn’t really matter that its cold and windy when he’s with someone this warm.

 

Alright, it turned out not to be _just_ bubble tea.

 

Barely bubble tea, at all, really. They almost got blown into the sea, and only caught the starry credits of a show, but it wasn’t a _complete_ disaster. Soonyoung didn’t choke on his drink, at least. That was good.

 

Who is he kidding, it was a calamity, and if Seokmin didn’t notice how nervous Soonyoung was, he at least noticed his attraction for bad luck. Seokmin will just go home, tell all his friends how bad it was, never see him again, never sing to him again—

 

But then Seokmin leans up and kisses him gently on the cheek. “That was just about the most interesting date I’ve ever been on. We should, you know. Do it again sometime.”

 

-

 

 

When Seokmin gets to work on Thursday, there’s a scarf waiting for him in Jihoon’s office.

 

“It was by the door.” Jihoon grumbles and throws it in his direction. “Don’t ask who sent it. If you think it’s poisoned, give it to Hansol. I asked that kid to fix the sound system three times this morning and he’s been sorting beers alphabetically with Mingyu instead.”

 

Seokmin holds it in his hand.

 

The scarf is soft, a mint green, dotted with small black and white pandas. A smile dawns, as soft as the scarf. “It’s from Soonyoung.”

 

“Oh _great._ I don’t need more love in this bar, Wonwoo won’t stop smiling and it’s freaking me out.”

 

“We went on a date last week and I lost my scarf, but it was the _best_ date, Jihoon. We got tea, and we talked, and we saw the light show.”

 

“I really don’t want to know.”

 

“He did this awesome freestyle dance which was inspired _by_ my scarf. How cool is that? It was _incredible._ You should have seen it—”

 

"No I shouldn't have."

 

“But I don’t know if he wants more. You know? We’re friends, but he didn’t text. Maybe he doesn’t want to ruin that.”

 

“It’s sweet how you still think I’m listening.”

 

“You’re his friend, right Jihoon? You’d tell me if he said anything.”

 

Jihoon sighs, a sigh of long nights and early starts.

 

He grabs the scarf from Seokmin’s hands, and leans up to wrap it around Seokmin’s neck. “You don’t need me to say anything at all. Is this not enough?”

 

 

 

Soonyoung turns up that evening to watch, and Seokmin knows it’s no coincidence he performs his best that day. On his break, they sit together, drinking Mingyu-made hot chocolates. Jun likes to come over and ask if they want to order anything else, because it’s Jun, and he’s _invested._

 

Seokmin knows the others have got a little impatient with them, but Soonyoung and Seokmin aren’t Jun and Wonwoo. Jun and Wonwoo stem from the passion of opposites—they are the black and white keys on a piano, they are major and minor chords. Different but intimately connected.

 

Soonyoung and Seokmin walk the same wavelength. They are the type of people that grow together, even if it’s slowly, sunflowers reaching towards the sun. Seokmin likes that. He doesn’t know how Soonyoung feels, but It makes him comfortable, to know they are friends before they’re anything else.

 

He knows how _he_ feels, though. What scares Seokmin the most in his life, is that he will be unremarkable. That his voice is just ordinary. That his life will be commonplace. That he is the etched mask he wears and nothing more.

 

Being around Soonyoung is anything but unremarkable.

 

Soonyoung’s got a temperament that flickers in and out like the flame of an oil lamp. When it’s stoked it will burst forth in fiery spirals of inspiration that would ignite any unremarkable man’s soul.

 

Soonyoung can dance the seasons, he can dance dreams, he can see Seokmin washing the dishes and turn it into a ballet. Soonyoung said, the other night, that Seokmin’s a storyteller. So is he _._ They’re silent stories, stories of the body that don’t need words to be beautiful.

 

Soonyoung makes the most unremarkable times Seokmin’s favourite.

 

They’ve watched movies with Seungkwan in Seokmin’s tiny flat and ended up having a karaoke battle to the wordless theme tune. They baked in Soonyoung’s house with Joshua and laughed until tears ran down their faces. They painted with Minghao, or read Shakespeare with Jun, and even if Seokmin doesn’t ‘get out’ more, maybe he doesn’t need to.

 

One day, when he was tired at work, Seokmin took a nap on Soonyoung’s shoulder. The whole time he didn’t want to fall asleep, because that would mean Seokmin would stop feeling Soonyoung’s breath on his cheek. And that, the most unremarkable of all, was when he felt happiest. Soonyoung taught him ordinary is extraordinary if you’re with the right person.

 

 “I see something funny, and I think of you.” Soonyoung blurts after a long, comfortable silence, where hot chocolate is drunk and music is listened to. Soonyoung seems to want to put the words back in his mouth, eyes wide as they fall. “Wait…”

 

Seokmin laughs. “Yeah, I don’t know if that’s a compliment.”

 

“No, no I mean…when I see something funny, I want to share it with you.”

 

“Oh.” Seokmin’s hands clutch tightly to his mug. “Well, you can—”

 

“And when I hear a love song, I apply it to us.”

 

Warmth spreads from Seokmin’s fingers through his blood, across his skin, filling his chest, his _lungs._

 

“I see a couple and I imagine them being you and me.” Soonyoung stares and stretches a hand out, fingers brushing Seokmin’s. “Basically, I’m trying to say you are all I think about, and it’s driving me crazy. So, I’m ending the insanity and just asking you to go out with me already. Properly. No lost scarves. No friend-dates. Boyfriend dates. Boyfriends.”

 

He pauses, and Seokmin’s not sure he can breathe.

 

“Because…y’know,” Soonyoung shrugs, like it’s nothing. “I don’t think I’m supposed to be in love with you before we actually go out.”

 

And with that, right there, Seokmin could never feel unremarkable again.

 

 

 

 


End file.
